


your name in my mouth

by radialarch



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jaegers, Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2524742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radialarch/pseuds/radialarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Steve went into the drift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your name in my mouth

**Author's Note:**

> So one day I said [what if fic where Steve drifts with everyone](http://radialarch.tumblr.com/post/99584052376). And then this happened. 
> 
> I've taken liberties with the concept of the drift, to the point where this is basically noncompliant with Pacific Rim canon, sorry.
> 
> Thanks to [Sara](/users/fallingvoices) for her love & support, always.

1.

By 1941, there are rumors coming out of Europe — they say the Germans have got robots, ones that glow a bright blue and can’t be stopped by bullets or tanks. It sounds right out of one of Bucky’s science fiction stories, but the casualties from the front are real just the same.

By the time Bucky ships out, the rumors have become fact. The army sends ships full of scared men — boys — to die uselessly in the trenches, but they will not take Steve.

Then a man with an incongruous German accent tells him, “I can offer you a chance.”

*

The man’s name is Abraham Erskine and he hails from Queens. He is not interested in Steve’s body, but instead his memories.

“In the drift, it is not you who moves,” he explains, emphasizing his words with stabs of his fingers, “but the thousands of times you have made that motion, coming together, like _that_.”

“But why me?” Steve asks. “I’m sure you have stronger people—”

“Yes,” Dr. Erskine agrees. “But the drift is a hard place. You — five exempts, five different addresses — I have a feeling that when you fall, you will not stay down.”

Steve can’t help the grin. Dr. Erskine smiles back, full of confidence.

*

In 1943, Dr. Erskine is dead. He leaves behind half-finished schematics and a machine that Stark desolately calls “so damn close to being done”.

“What’s wrong with it?” Steve asks. The Germans have taken France weeks ago and now England is the last bastion of resistance in Europe.

“It’s only got one conn-pod,” Stark says. “I’m an engineer, I need data. Without Erskine, it might take me months to figure out how to wire the other one in properly without frying both pilot’s brains.”

“Isn’t one enough?”

“Not according to the calculations, no.” Stark’s voice is grim. “One person just can’t handle the neural load.”

The thing is: Steve’s never responded well to being told he _can’t_.

*

Project Gemini moves to Italy at Stark’s insistence. Across the ocean, the war greets them immediately.

“Most of the 107th have been captured,” Agent Carter reports in crisp tones. “Azzano, about thirty miles past the front.”

“The 107th?” Steve asks frantically. “Who’s leading the rescue mission?”

The answer, it seems, is _no one_ , and that’s not a response Steve is willing to stand with.

*

“Pal, it’s one thing if you want to throw your life away,” Stark says firmly. “But I’ve spent weeks on this machine, it’s more valuable than you.”

“You said you needed more data, right?” Steve says. “This is me, giving you data.”

It takes him a long time to convince Stark to let him into the machine, but he finally caves. Agent Carter touches his shoulder before he climbs into the conn-pod.

“Be careful, Steve,” she tells him.

“I’ll be all right,” Steve says. “How dangerous can my mind be?”

*

Later, Stark tells him that his heart briefly flatlined.

Later, Carter tells him that his nose had started bleeding thirty seconds in.

*

The machine moves in fits and jerks, but it _moves_. It cuts a track through the forests a blind man could follow but Steve's not aiming for stealth.

The Germans shoot at him, then they turn and run. Their robots come at him over and over like broken toys until Steve swipes them out of the way. He liberates the 107th. None of it matters until he’s climbing out of the machine, wiping his face with an unsteady hand, and Bucky’s on a lab bench, he’s alive, he’s _alive_ —

“Steve?” Bucky mumbles, as Steve yanks at straps that are digging too tightly into Bucky’s body. “What happened to you?”

He raises a hand to touch Steve’s face; it comes away bloody.

“The army happened to me,” Steve says, swallowing down a burst of laughter. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

*

Bucky can barely walk. There’s a pain in Steve’s side that sharpens when he tries to heave Bucky up, and they both fall to the ground, panting.

“Okay,” Steve says, and looks at the machine. There’s only one conn-pod, but Dr. Erskine had said — what had he said?

“ _We build machines to access it, but at its heart, the drift is about connection_.”

“Buck, do you trust me?”

Bucky’s teeth are very white. “What’re you thinking of, you loon?”

*

Bucky’s half-starved and Steve’s as small as ever; they manage to fit into the conn-pod, curled around each other, Steve’s cheek pressed against Bucky’s chest.

“You ready?” Steve says, and throws the switch.

And then there’s—

—there’s Bucky, and Bucky, and _Bucky_ —

—Steve breathes, and Bucky’s chest rises, falls—

—Bucky’s hand tangles around his own, and Steve feels that twice over, sensation multiplied again and again and again—

—and a cool voice says, "Neural handshake engaged."

*

Back at base, they tumble out of the conn-pod to cheers. Stark is yelling jubilantly at them; Carter has a hand over her mouth and her shoulders are shaking.

Steve pushes Bucky towards medical and goes to find Colonel Phillips. “Reporting for disciplinary action,” he says. He’s tired; the world goes gray before his eyes and comes back to color slowly.

Colonel Phillips’s mouth is pressed thin before he smiles. “That won’t be necessary,” he says, slapping Steve’s shoulder. Steve swallows down a wince but Phillips’s eyes go narrow anyway. “Go get yourself fixed up, soldier.”

*

“Did you hear?” Stark says. He pats the machine on one leg. “The Germans are terrified of this thing. They’re calling it _jaeger_ — hunter.” His smile is wolfish.

The name sticks, much to Senator Brandt’s dismay. Bucky, especially, seems to take great pleasure in the irony.

“Jaeger, huh,” he says, rolling the German word in his mouth. “Yeah, you bet I’m hunting those bastards down.”

Bucky’s not the only one. Steve finds men — good men — willing to charge back into the hell they just escaped from.

“You sure you’ll need us?” Morita asks between one pint and the next. “You did just fine in Azzano.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, and looks around at them all. There are so many things he wants to say but his throat is tight. “I’m sure.”

*

The Howling Commandos earn their names quickly. They tear their way through Europe — Steve and Bucky in the jaeger, the others at their flank. Drifting with Bucky is easy, effortless, and Steve begins to think they can actually win the war.

*

They’re on a mission to capture Hydra’s lead scientist, Zola. His base is somewhere deep in the alps, overlooking a sheer cliff. There are robots guarding the entrance but the jaeger sheds the shots easily, and Bucky’s looking at Steve, laughing brilliantly, when—

—it’s a million in one shot—

—a flash of blue and Bucky’s conn-pod lurches—

—and Steve feels Bucky go over the edge, feels his scream in his mouth—

—then he doesn’t feel him at all, only a terrible, hollow ache.

“ _Bucky_ ,” he shouts. The jaeger is on its knees — Steve tries to get back up, but it responds sluggishly, heavily, all of its weight on his own weak shoulders.

Steve’s face is wet.

 

 

2.

Agent Carter finds him in the sparring room.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she tells him kindly. “Stop blaming yourself.”

Steve nearly laughs.

Carter steps out of her shoes and onto the mat. “Don’t think,” she says, “react.” Then she punches him.

He dodges instinctively, leaning back on his feet, and she steps forward into his space. Her movements are fluid as she comes at him, not brutal but demanding, and by the time he pants out, “Stop,” he’s drenched in sweat.

“I can’t go into that jaeger again,” Steve says, dropping to the floor. “Not alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” she says, and Steve knows her next words before she says them. “I’ll be with you.”

*

The first time they try, it starts a disaster. Steve reaches out for the familiarity of Bucky’s mind and falters at the feeling of Carter instead; a spike of pain goes through Steve’s head and the jaeger shudders, metallic screeches echoing in their ears.

“Shut it down,” Carter says, “shut it _down_ ,” and Stark's about to pull the plug but Steve's having none of it.

"Don't," he says, "I can do this.” He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth, very carefully folds away the memories of drifting with Bucky. This time when his mind touches Carter’s he doesn’t flinch, and—

—he can feel Carter in the other conn-pod, her breaths evening out—

—feel the way her fingers are curled against her palm—

—a cool voice says, “Neural handshake engaged”—

—and Peggy smiles.

*

Drifting with Peggy gets easier. He gets used to the shape of her mind, the cool smoothness of it, and in return he can feel her find a comfortable place in his.

It's all fine. Steve just can’t think about Bucky for too long, that’s all.

*

There's a madman called the Red Skull aboard an airplane. He's carrying explosives and headed for New York.

Steve remembers New York, remembers the sound of traffic and shouts in the streets, the taste of the air after rain, the feel of gravel under his palm; he remembers—

—Bucky—

—no—

The jaeger shudders when they fall out of drift. Steve forces his eyes open through the pain and manages to eject Peggy's conn-pod.

She’s clear, she’s safe. Steve sighs as the jaeger screeches across the ground to tangle with the Red Skull.

The plane tilts down, down, down.

*

This is how Bucky died: cold and alone. It's all right if Steve goes the same way.

 

 

3.

Steve wakes up.

Steve wakes up and it is 2011. Bucky is dead but he is not.

*

SHIELD wants to put him back in a jaeger.

“I told you I couldn’t do it before,” Steve tells Peggy, lying in a hospital bed but as brilliant as ever. “And now I don’t even have you.”

“They’re a good crop, the new pilots,” Peggy says, her voice fond. “It’ll be all right, Steve.”

“Do you really believe that?” Steve asks. “You’ve been in my head, Peggy. It’s a mess.”

“I do,” she says, and she sounds so much like when she found him in 1945. “Because we need you, and I’ve never lost faith in you.”

Peggy has his hand in one of her own. Steve strokes her palm with his thumb.

“Back to the sparring room, then,” he says, and gives her a smile.

*

A hole opens up over New York. It’s not Steve’s first time in a war but it is for many of SHIELD’s pilots.

“Don’t worry about me,” Natasha Romanov tells him as she climbs into her conn-pod. “I can handle myself.”

Steve brings their hours in the sparring room to the forefront of his mind, holds his breath as his conn-pod starts up. The jaeger is vibrating underneath him, and—

—there’s no panic in Natasha’s mind, just quiet determination—

—Steve remembers Peggy telling him, _we need you_ —

—he breathes one, two, three and lets his mind open up—

—and it’s familiar by now, the voice saying clearly, “Neural handshake engaged.”

*

Natasha’s mind is as smooth as glass, impossibly focused on the battle.

Steve remembers, a long time ago: _at its heart, the drift is about connection._

*

In the aftermath of the battle, Steve touches Natasha’s shoulder before she can go.

“Who taught you how to drift?” he asks. “It should be—”

 _Joyous_ , he wants to say. “—about connection,” he finishes instead.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “It was a long time ago.”

Steve looks at her, and aches. “You’ve got a lot of secrets,” he says.

She stares back at him, her smile a little crooked. “So do you,” she says.

*

He hadn’t realized he could keep secrets in the drift.

He hadn’t been trying.

 

 

4.

Steve finds Sam Wilson looking at a jaeger, and the look on his face is something Steve knows.

“Hell of a thing to climb back into,” he says. “After.”

“Yeah,” Sam nods, his hands in his pockets. “Can’t stay grounded forever, though.”

Steve looks up at the jaeger looming above them, power infused in its sleek lines. “Maybe you’re right,” he says. Sam grins at him, knowing.

*

There’s an assassin called the Winter Soldier loose in the city, and SHIELD turns out to be rotten from the inside out. Natasha decides to go for Pierce while Steve and Sam take on the Winter Soldier.

*

Sam’s mind is easy enough to find. _Riley_ , he’s saying loud and clear, _Riley, Riley, Riley—_

“Sorry,” Steve tells him with a twist of his mouth. “I can’t be him for you.”

It hurts, to grasp onto Sam’s mind and find his hurts echoed twice over. All the times he’d drifted with Bucky slam into him, and he knows Sam’s feeling the same, aching for his copilot—

—but they have to be each other’s, now, and Steve breathes through the pain—

—thinks about the longing on Sam’s face as he’d said, _can’t be grounded forever_ —

— _the drift should be joyous_ —

—and it’s almost unsurprising to hear the voice say calmly, “Neural handshake engaged.”

*

The Winter Soldier is piloting a jaeger solo. They meet in the middle of the Potomac, jaeger against jaeger, and it’s an evenly matched fight, neither side giving an inch—

—there’s a crack in the other conn-pod and Steve can see the Winter Soldier’s face—

—“Bucky?” Steve says—

—it’s Bucky, it’s Bucky—

—the jaeger stumbles, and Steve feels Sam’s mind slipping away from him—

— _it’s Bucky_ —

—and Steve climbs out of his conn-pod, shouting—

— _Bucky_ —

The Winter Soldier looks back, and his face is blank.

*

He falls.

He falls into the river, and he remembers—

 _—we build machines to access it, but at its heart, the drift is about connection_.

There’s water in his mouth, his eyes — he falls and falls and he remembers—

—Bucky—

*

Every single time he’d drifted with Bucky, the ease of merging with his mind, they’re coming together like—

—like—

*

— _Steve?_ —

 

 

5.

Steve wakes up in the hospital. Sam gives him a smile from his bedside.

“You look great,” he tells Steve.

“Feel that way,” Steve croaks. “Where’s Bucky?”

Sam’s smile falters. “He must’ve pulled you out of the river,” he says. “I don’t know where he is now.”

Steve struggles up, gasps through the pain in his ribs. “I’ve gotta find him.”

Sam puts a hand on his arm. “Not a chance,” he says. “Not until you’ve healed up.”

*

Someone sends him a postcard from London.

 _Dear Steve_ , it says,

_I’ve been remembering._

_They made me forget who I was. Everything I was. I’ve done—it wasn’t good, Steve._

_I am trying to be someone who can be your friend again._

Steve rubs his thumb over the places where the pen’s pressed through the card. “Buck, you idiot,” he says into the air. “You already are.”

*

He goes to London.

*

Paris.

*

Berlin.

*

It’s nearly a dance, except Steve can never predict Bucky’s next move. Before, it would have been so easy.

*

_Dear Steve,_

_It’s beautiful in Italy. I didn’t think it would be like this._

_I remember the war, but there are flowers here._

*

Bucky is right. Steve goes to Azzano and finds the forest lushly green. It’s not a surprise when he sees Bucky, outlined against a clear lake.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Bucky says without looking. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Steve looks at Bucky, the slope of his shoulders. “Fight me,” he says. “Come on, do it.”

He launches himself at Bucky’s back, and Bucky turns just in time.

Bucky dodges him easily, leaning back to avoid Steve’s fists; and Steve keeps going, one foot in front of the other. Bucky looks surprised as he moves, blocking each of Steve’s punches, and Steve can _feel_ him get it, their moves perfectly choreographed.

Bucky finally stumbles, and Steve lunges, pinning him to the ground. “You see now,” Steve pants. “You—we—”

And then he presses his mouth to Bucky’s.

When Bucky surges up against him, Steve feels that twice over; and when he mouths his way down Bucky’s jaw, he can feel that too, phantom touches on his own skin.

Bucky makes a needy sound underneath him, hard against Steve’s thigh. Steve reaches down into Bucky’s pants, wraps a hand around his cock, and Bucky says, “yes,” thin and high.

It’s not like anything Steve’s ever done before. He strokes Bucky slowly and feels the pleasure rise under Bucky’s skin; he feels Bucky’s hips jerk up into his fist and grins against Bucky's shoulder.

“Don’t be a tease,” Bucky says breathlessly. “Steve.”

And when Bucky kisses him, Steve feels that, multiplied a thousand times, Bucky breathing into his mouth and Bucky’s forehead tipped against his — Steve closes his eyes, twists his hand, and feels Bucky come, feels it surging at the base of his own spine.

Bucky’s name is in his mouth and Bucky’s hands are on him; Steve buries his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and feels like he could stay here, for a lifetime.


End file.
